Kal
I was doing everything wrong.
Last night I was caught outside of my hu-suit. I fraternized with a human. I gave Xaerean secrets away.
But I didn’t care. I didn’t care because it was Lola. I trusted her, and I cared about her. I cared for her, but I didn’t know what that meant. I had never experienced feelings like this before, and all I could think about was that kiss.
In my human studies, I had briefly learned about how humans showed affection, but it was probably the section we spent the least amount of time on. I didn’t remember much about it at all. But when Lola demonstrated the kiss…
Who knew something as strange as touching lips could feel like that? I was simultaneously on fire and doused in water. If that’s what it felt like to kiss while in the suit, I wondered what it would be like with nothing else between us. I wanted to find out.
I wanted so many things that I was afraid I couldn’t have. Most of all, I just wanted more. More kisses. More Lola. More time.
Then I thought about the things I hadn’t said last night. How I’d come here by accident, because that was who I was. How I wouldn’t be here much longer if my Xaerean peers were capable of finding me—and I knew they were.
“Ow, ow, ouch!”
Lola was carrying an oven-hot tray to the cooling rack when I peeked around the corner from the dish pit.
There wasn’t much for me to do, other than clean a stack of plates here or there.
Still, Lola was bustling around as if the restaurant was full of customers, face serious as she mumbled angrily to herself and cradled her sprained wrist.
I understood what was happening. Lola was in pain, and she was trying to work through it. I felt sick to my stomach knowing that her pain was because of me. If I hadn’t stood so close, if I hadn’t let my guard down, if I hadn’t let Lola kiss me, and hadn’t kissed her back—what would be different?
Maybe neither of us would be hurting now.
Lola, because of her injury. Me, because for the first time, I’d had a taste of what it felt like to be wanted by someone.
Because later that night, as I was falling asleep, I had let myself imagine what it would feel like to belong somewhere—like here on Earth, with Lola.
I couldn’t keep watching Lola working while in pain without saying something.
As much as I thought I’d grown used to being the source of someone’s frustration, I was still hyper-aware of being disliked for it.
I’d grown a tough skin among other Xaereans, but it had worn soft since arriving on Earth.
I steeled my nerves and spoke up. “If your wrist is hurting, don’t you think you should take a break?” I said.
Lola looked at me like I’d lost my mind, and I grimaced. I truly thought that was a completely normal suggestion.
“I can’t stop cooking,” Lola said. “This is a restaurant. I’m the cook.”
I took the few short steps to peer through the window of the door separating the kitchen from the dining room. The restaurant was practically empty. There was one customer sitting at a booth nursing a cup of coffee, and Darlene wiping down the pie case.
“You don’t have any customers,” I told her.
The expression that passed over Lola’s face told me she already knew this and wasn’t happy about it.
“I’m not cooking for customers,” Lola said, turning back to a mixing bowl. “I’m cooking because I need to develop a new menu.”
“But…” I went to stand by her, watching. “You’re hurting yourself.”
Lola didn’t answer. Instead, her face grew redder as she continued to add ingredients to her mixture. Lola was clearly in pain but trying to work through it. By the time I spoke up again, a sheen of sweat had gathered on her brow. I wanted to reach out and wipe it away, but I didn’t.
When Lola bumped her wrist against the edge of the counter and hissed, I couldn’t sit by and watch anymore.
“You shouldn’t be doing this,” I said, pulling the bowl away.
“But I have to,” Lola said, trying to pull it back.
I reached for the bowl again, also grabbing the metal utensil she was using to stir.
“Hey! I need that!” Lola reached a limp hand out, trying to take it back, but I used my body as a shield.
“No,” I said. I was firm, addressing Lola with more confidence than I felt. “You’re in pain, and you need to see a doctor.”
“I’m fine,” Lola insisted, trying to reach around me. “And how do you know what a doctor is? Do they even have those where you’re from?”
“Where is Kal from that doesn’t have doctors?” Darlene ducked her head through the kitchen door and made both of us jump in surprise.
Lola looked at me with wide eyes. I returned the expression. “Nowhere,” she blurted. “I mean…Ohio!” Lola amended in a rush.
Darlene narrowed her eyes and looked between us. She was clearly suspicious of the answer. “Ohio doesn’t have doctors?”
Lola swallowed loud enough for me to hear her throat work. “The Amish part of Ohio, Darlene,” she said. A sharp poke to my side. “Which is where Kal is from. Isn’t that right, Kal?”
I had no idea what Lola was talking about. I didn’t know what an Amish was, or an Ohio for that matter. But if Lola wanted me to play along, I would play along.
“Amish, huh?” Darlene looked me up and down slowly. I nodded when Lola poked at me again with her elbow.
“Yes, Amish. Definitely Amish.” And absolutely, one-hundred percent not an alien that didn’t belong on Earth.
“Didn’t realize Amish men could look like you,” Darlene said with a wink. “Maybe I should move to Ohio.”
“Darlene! You’re married!” Lola hissed. “I went to your thirtieth anniversary party!”
Darlene shrugged. “I got married, and I could get divorced. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?” Another wink. Then: “Our last customer just left. Mind if I cut out early?”
Lola sighed heavily. “Of course, Darlene. I should probably close up for the day anyway. I’m…really sorry.” She didn’t elaborate, but Darlene seemed to understand.
“That’s okay, sugar,” Darlene said. “You’re trying your best, and we can all see it. Your grandma would be proud of you.”
As soon as Darlene’s back was turned, Lola tugged at the mixing bowl again. “Give me that,” she insisted, finally wrestling it from my grasp and plucking the utensil from my hand.
“You were holding the whisk upside down anyway,” she added in a grumble.
“You shouldn’t be doing that,” I said, circling the counter to come face-to-face with Lola. Now I was beginning to feel frustrated with Lola. I knew humans could be stubborn, but not like this.
“I can’t stop,” Lola said. “I don’t have time to stop. Maybe I could if you weren’t h—” Lola stopped short, but not before I could figure out exactly what she was trying to say.
If you weren’t here.
Of course. Lola didn’t need me here. I was getting in the way, like I always did. I’d already caused her pain, and now I was causing her more.
I could feel my suit growing tight and itchy again as my breathing turned shallow. Suddenly, that all too familiar feeling from working in the Exploratory Unit came back. Of being a nuisance, a hindrance. Kal, the screwup.
I watched for a second more as she stirred angrily, her teeth clenched tight.
Fine. If being alone was what Lola needed, I could give her that. It wasn’t the first time a coworker had asked me to leave them alone. And based on my experience, it wouldn’t be the last. I turned toward the office, where I could take refuge.
“Kal, wait—”
I heard Lola call after me as I walked away to give her space. I didn’t stop, and she didn’t come after me.
No one ever did.
I felt sorry for myself, and I was wallowing in self-pity. I was ashamed that I’d hurt Lola, and it hurt that she didn’t want my help. She was pushing me away, just like everyone else always had.
No one wants you. The words repeated in my mind. No one wants you on Xaerea or on Earth.
My suit was too unbearably uncomfortable. Uselessly, I scratched at the exterior, but the discomfort grew until I was doubled over with it. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I...I…
I can’t get out of this blasted suit.
With fumbling hands, I grappled with the skin of my suit until finally, thankfully, my finger pressed the button to unfasten it. I ripped the material from my head and let it slip off my arms and hang awkwardly at my waist.
My tentacles stretched out around me, regaining feeling, before I wrapped them around my arms and middle. I hugged myself tightly like that until I could regulate my breathing. I don’t know how long it took, but when I felt like myself again, I opened my eyes.
And that’s when I saw the strangest thing: a picture of a little brown-green creature with words scrawled across. It said “Do or do not. There is no try.”
I repeated those words over in my head, letting them trip and tumble until they slipped smoothly into my consciousness.
Do or do not. There is no try.
There is no try? But all I did was try. My whole life had been a series of trying and failing. I’d tried to make friends but fell short. I’d tried to advance in my job, but ended up ruining my chances. And, more than anything, I’d tried to be normal, to be accepted for who I really was.
My tentacles loosened and unfurled around me.
Do or do not.
A tentacle moved to my hair, brushing tendrils away from my face as I stared at the words, attempted to make sense of them.
There is no try.
Another tentacle flitted behind me, reaching for the desk as I tried not to lose my balance. The tip of my appendage landed against something small and familiar. I picked the recipe book up and cradled it in my hands.
Reading the title gave me an idea. One that might not work. In fact, the idea probably would not work, based on my track record. But I was tired of trying so hard to get things right. I was ready to do something right, for a change.
Foolproof Recipes for a Damn Good Home-Cooked Meal.
Foolproof. Ha.
Well, I was a fool, wasn’t I?
I wanted to see once and for all if Gladys was right. My first attempt all those days ago was a disaster, but that didn’t mean I had to give up trying to cook. I just needed to do it.
Without giving it another thought, I stepped out of my hu-suit, slipped the shoes onto my bare feet, and grabbed an apron.
Then I stomped back into the kitchen where Lola was hovering over the deep fryer, red-faced, with her bad wrist hugged to her chest. Her face was twisted in discomfort, and I was angry that she was torturing herself.
I would put an end to it.
I found a bare stretch of counter and slapped the recipe book down, flipping through the pages until I found the one I was looking for. I traced the page with a finger and scanned the ingredients list. Got it.
Step one: gather the ingredients. I needed to find the flour.
I noticed Lola pause what she was doing, the kitchen falling quiet. I looked up to find her staring at me, mouth agape.
“You’re naked,” she said, letting her eyes travel across my bare shoulders and take in my restlessly twitching tentacles.
“I’m not,” I said. “I’m wearing my underthings. And this apron.” My hands smoothed the front of the apron as I attempted to project confidence.
“So…what are you doing in your underthings and that apron in my kitchen?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
Lola sank back on her heels and crossed her arms at me. “It looks like you’re about to get in my way, if I’m being honest.”
The statement stung, but I let it hang in the air between us. I could handle it. Besides, I was used to hearing much worse from people who knew me back on Xaerea. I was a screwup, sure, but I was never someone who just gave up when I knew I was doing the right thing.
If Lola didn’t want my help, too bad. I was offering it to her anyway. I wouldn’t let Lola push me away so she could keep hurting herself in the process.
“Good,” I said.
I pushed past her to search for the ingredients, trying to remember where she grabbed the things for her morning baking.
“What?”
“If you’re not going to stop cooking,” I grunted as I gathered what I needed with my tentacles, “then I’m going to learn how to cook, too.”
I surveyed my gathered ingredients and realized I’d forgotten the most important one. A tentacle snaked past Lola and pinched the bottle of cinnamon off a shelf. She gasped as my appendage brushed her cheek, and my skin grew hot from the warmth of hers.
“But…but why?” Lola said.
“Because everyone deserves a home-cooked meal. And if you’re not capable of making it, I need to learn how.” I tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear. “And you need to learn how to accept help.”
Lola was quiet for a while after that. She watched as I fumbled in the kitchen, leaving a trail of messes in my wake. But she didn’t try to stop me, and I wasn’t planning on letting her even if she tried.
“It’s the restaurant,” Lola said eventually. “It’s not doing well. So I entered a contest that could win us a lot of money, but everything is going wrong.”
I nodded along as she spoke, and Lola continued.
“And…well. I’m not used to asking for help. Even when things go to shit.”
“I like helping,” I said simply. “Especially if it’s you.”